Chapter 2

Gloria’s POV

Pain.

That was the first thing that registered. A sharp, throbbing ache in my temple and the scent of copper—blood.

My eyes fluttered open. I wasn't in my car. I wasn't in the rain.

I was lying on a leather sofa that cost more than my car. The room was dim, lit only by the dying embers of a massive stone fireplace and the blue light of a laptop screen on a desk across the room.

The smell hit me next. Sandalwood, dark rum, and rain. It was intoxicating, a scent so thick it made my wolf whimper in submission, even though I was human.

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness pushed me back down. My dress was ruined, torn at the hem, and dried mud clung to my skin. I felt exposed.

"You're awake."

The voice was deep, gravelly, and vibrated through the floorboards.

I froze. My eyes darted to the desk.

A man sat there. He was massive, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of a black t-shirt. He had dark hair that fell over his forehead, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

Hunter.

Every wolf knew who Hunter was. He was a Beta, technically, but he had been exiled from the Silver Moon pack years ago for nearly killing an Alpha who disrespected his brother. He was dangerous. He was lethal. And he was currently living in the Shadowlands, a place decent wolves didn't go.

But that wasn't what stopped my heart.

It was what he was doing.

On his laptop screen, the video was playing. My video. The one from the ballroom. The humiliating footage of me touching myself, followed by the even more humiliating footage of Jaxson rejecting me.

He wasn't just watching it. He was leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes fixated on the screen with an intensity that was terrifying. His hand was under the desk.

Rhythmically moving.

Heat flushed through my entire body, burning away the chill of the rain. I should have been horrified. I should have screamed. I was the Alpha's daughter, and this exiled criminal was getting off to my trauma.

But I couldn't move.

He wasn't laughing like the others. He wasn't mocking me. His expression was one of dark, possessive hunger.

He paused the video right on my tear-streaked face. Then he slowly turned his chair to face me. He didn't stop what he was doing. He didn't pull his hand out of his pants. He just stared at me, his eyes black with lust.

"I found you in the wreck," he said, his voice rough. "Dragged you out before the car exploded."

"You... you're watching it," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I've watched it five times," he admitted shamelessly. His stroke was slow, deliberate. "They think this is shameful, Gloria? They think this makes you weak?"

He stood up then. My breath hitched. He was taller than I remembered. More muscular. A predator in every sense of the word.

He walked toward the sofa, towering over me.

"I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmured. "Hearing you beg."

"Stop," I breathed, though I didn't look away.

"You want me to stop?" He smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Or do you want to know what a real man does when he sees a creature as beautiful as you in pain?"

He reached down, his rough fingers grazing my jaw. The sparks that flew between us weren't the mate bond—I had just been rejected, I shouldn't feel anything. But this... this was raw attraction.

"You're in my territory now, Princess," he whispered against my ear. "And the Shadowlands have different rules."

My phone, which someone had placed on the coffee table, buzzed again. Another message from my father: Do not return. You are dead to us.

I looked at Hunter. He was the villain of every story I’d been told. But right now, looking at the fire in his eyes, he was the only thing making me feel alive.

"I have nowhere to go," I said, my voice breaking.

Hunter straightened up, adjusting his pants but leaving the button undone. "Good. Because I wasn't planning on letting you leave."